


Life After You

by ashinan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve knew Peggy had a life after the war. He just didn't think it included telling stories to a young Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life After You

**Author's Note:**

> For my own personal headcanon that Peggy was a part of young Tony's life. And this is how Steve finds out! Enjoy, lovelies!

Steve was used to explosions. And gunfire. And the random assortment of noises and miscellaneous occurrences that usually happened in the midst of battle. What he wasn’t used to, what he had never had to worry about before, was Tony Stark. Tony was an anomaly that Steve always forgot to calculate for, a soldier that forgot to act how it was supposed to. One that was currently flying in the direct line of a missile, the glint of his red-gold suit momentarily blinding Steve.

“Iron Man! No!  _Fall back_!”

He threw up the shield, felt panic slam into his chest as he lost sight of Tony, of the missile, of  _Tony_ , and an explosion rocked the entire street.

There was screaming, crying, and a panicked whine in the air that caught and held in Steve’s ears as he lowered the shield. The street was shattered, lamp posts warped beyond recognition and smoke rising from gutted buildings. At the epicenter stood Tony, his suit blackened with soot. He was bent forward, fingers digging into the rubble before he glanced to the side, the repulsors already sending him spiralling into the air. Steve watched him go before he tuned back in to the chaos.

Natasha was crouched beside a wrecked body, her features tense. She looked up at him. “Two dead here. One had a camera. The other was a child.”

His chest constricting, Steve looked up, searching for the familiar splash of red and gold. When nothing caught his eye, his grief and guilt turned hot and furious, a bitter bite coating his tongue. He gritted his teeth and grabbed his shield.

“Come on.”

\--

Finding Tony wasn’t difficult. SHIELD wasn’t large enough to hide him, wasn’t large enough to hold out against Steve’s anger, really. And when he corned Tony in a deserted corner near the gym, there was a fevered brilliance in Tony’s eyes and his fingers continually drummed out a beat on his thigh. All of the words Steve had been playing around with, the delicate way he was going to bring up the deaths, the ease with which he would mention Tony’s inability to conform to team dynamics, were lost. The cages Steve had built around his emotions, his shame and guilt and absolute  _fury_ , broke down at the sight of Tony, not truly understanding what had happened. Not understanding that they had lost six civilians today, three adults, an elderly man, and two young children.

Tony’s voice was manic. “I managed to disable their central headquarters. Fury is handling the prisoners, all with their cyanide pills and ridiculous ideals about mythical creatures and frankly idiotic views on technological advances, and we should learn more in –”

“You were reckless, and irrational, and compromised the entire mission!” Steve cut him off, pushing Tony back. Tony’s face went carefully blank and Steve wanted nothing more than to have him scream back, to take his carefully constructed façade and toss it away. “Explain to me; explain how I am going to tell six families that their loved ones died because the great Tony Stark was too proud to be a team player!”

Tony’s face shattered, his eyes growing wide as he fought to retain his emotions. Steve watched the play of it, guilt punching him in the gut. But he didn’t stop, didn’t move from his stance too close to Tony. “You didn’t listen to orders. You didn’t, for once, take into account all the  _variables_. You were selfish and too proud and blind to realize a strategy was already being implemented. And because of that, six people died today. Two of which were children.”

Tony looked like he had been slapped, fingers twitching again where they had rested against his thigh. That same half-brilliant look flashed in his eyes, and then he seemed to replay Steve’s words, his fingers tightening as he looked away, but not before Steve saw the visceral splash of  _hurt_  over his face. There was a split second pause, something sharp and tangible hanging in the air before Tony turned back to him, shutters sliding over his eyes like liquid metal. He smiled, cocky and sure, but Steve could see the tick in his jaw, the pain crumpled around his eyes.

“I’ve never been a team player, Cap. Shouldn’t surprise you, really.” Tony sucked in a breath; his smile looked like shattered glass. “Not like I expected you to ever be proud of me.”

With a mock salute, Tony turned on his heel and left, shoulders hunched protectively. Steve watched him go, fists by his sides, before his anger abruptly left him, leaving him horrified. He never lost his temper, never so much as shouted at another comrade. The swish-slide of the door closing had Steve dragging a hand through his hair. He knew he should apologize, should at least thank Tony for finding and disabling another Hydra base, but when he thought back to the shattered remains of those two children, their bodies barely recognizable, that silent anger grabbed hold of him again.

Let Tony figure it out on his own. Steve now had to make six very personal, very heartbreaking visits to complete strangers. He hefted his shield, but had never felt more helpless.

\--

Three days had passed before Steve realized he hadn't seen Tony. There had been no sign of him; the house itself had been silent as a grave, Jarvis refusing to answer any of the Avengers questions and locking them out on occasion. Steve felt something heavy settle in his stomach, lingering just behind his tongue, and when he couldn’t access the gym for the sixth time, he sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“Jarvis? Uhm, can you tell me where Tony is? I need to – well, I need to talk to him.” Nothing but silence. Steve swallowed and looked down. “Please.”

 “He is in the basement workshop, Captain,” Jarvis said, and Steve could scarcely remember the AI sounding so cold before. “I will inform him of your arrival.”

“No!” Steve winced. “I mean, I don’t want to interrupt him if he’s – I mean, I can wait?”

Another deep silence and Steve sighed. There was a click. “Silence may not be the best solution, Captain. Master Stark has been locked in the basement for seventy one hours. Interruption may be best.”

Steve tried to smile and nodded at nothing.

His steps grew heavier the further down he went. He replayed Tony and his conversation through his head over and over, trying to find a possible way to rectify what he said while also maintaining his view on Tony’s team abilities. He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. A light shone from the bottom of the stairs and he hurried down the last few steps. He typed in his code and the door quietly swished open.

“…and the solider knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t be able to save everyone. That, in the end, he would need to sacrifice everything to save something. And the soldier went away, ducky. He went away, but he will always be loved.”

Steve stalled, fingers sliding from the glass code as he looked wildly around him. That was – that was Peggy’s voice, surely, he would recognize it anywhere. That was  _Peggy's voice_  resonating from the walls, so alive and honest and  _there_  that Steve momentarily felt displaced. He peered around the door, saw the same sharp lines of Tony’s workshop, the same incandescent glint of metal. He saw the droids and the tools and  _Tony_ , slumped over by the desk, fingers in his hair. Peggy – Peggy wasn’t there.

But her voice was. “And you mustn’t forget that, Tony, love. You mustn’t forget, even though I’m off on adventures, that I’m not here all the time, that I love you and am very proud of you. Remember that, all right, ducky?”

There was a click, a whir, and Jarvis inquired, “Would you like to listen to another file, sir?”

“No,” Tony said, voice muffled. “Just – replay the end bit though, the last ten seconds or so. The bit – you know which one, Jarvis, I just need to hear it again.”

“Of course, sir.”

Peggy’s laughter echoed through the air, almost tangible, and Steve stepped further into the workshop. She was everywhere, all at once, and he could almost feel her beside him. “…that I love you and am very proud of you. Remember that, all right, ducky?”

Tony shuddered, a full body motion that caught Steve’s eye. He sat up, tugging at his hair with frustrated fingers before he breathed deep and said, “I know, Peggy. I’m trying.”

The recording clicked off and Tony scrubbed at his eyes. When he turned around, he startled at the sight of Steve, hand twitching toward the arc reactor in a motion that Steve had learned to recognize as something instinctual. There was a hunted look around his eyes, skin pulled tight around his mouth. As Steve watched, Tony’s face seemed to shatter and reconstruct itself in a familiar mask of blasé.

“Cap. What can I do for you?” Tony leaned back, discreetly removing the screen that held Peggy’s voice. Steve swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“That,” he started, stopped, started again, “That was Peggy, wasn’t it? I mean, Agent Margaret Carter?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Yes. How do you know of her?”

“We served in the army together. We –”  _were supposed to go dancing_ , didn’t quite leave his lips. He swallowed hard. “She’s gone then?”

Shadows played havoc over Tony’s face. Tony’s shield was beginning to slip, his face growing more haggard. “Yes. Dead about thirty years now. What was she to you?”

How could Steve even begin to explain that? It wasn’t that Peggy and he were an item, because they weren’t, they never even got that far, what with the war and the serum and him being frozen. He could still hear her voice, so clear, talking of the soldier that lost his life. He knew it was of him, and that thought slammed into him like his shield to the gut. Tony had heard stories of him, of Steve Rogers, growing up. Not just Captain America, but _him_. The implications were jarring. He looked at Tony, the weary lines in his face and the bright, almost feverish glint in his eyes, and wondered just how much Peggy had told him.

“She was the first dame I really had a conversation with. Met her in the army, and the first day, she punched a guy out.” Steve smiled. Tony’s face didn’t change. “She was probably one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever known.”

“Of course she was,” Tony snapped, and then winced. He rubbed at his temples. “Can you just – forget you heard anything? I know you were here for that last bit, I can see it on your face, and I don’t need your pity, Rogers. Just – leave, please.”

Steve fidgeted, unsure if he really should. Tony continued to stare at him, looking small and so unsure in his chair. Steve sighed. “Tony, I didn’t – I really didn’t mean to say the things I did. Well, no, I did, but I wanted to break it to you more gently then I did. You were amazing finding and disabling Hydra’s base, and I thank you for that.”

“I hear a ‘but’ coming on,” Tony said, voice exasperated.

Sighing, Steve moved further into the room. “Yes, because you should  _know_ by now that you are in a team environment and we take care of our own. We would’ve stopped that missile together, Tony. You didn’t have to put yourself in harm’s way like that.”

“What were my other options? There was a ninety two percent chance of you and Natasha being  _incinerated_  if I didn’t throw myself in the way, not including the percentages of those around the square that had yet to be evacuated. My suit can take that kind of hit; you, on the other hand, cannot.” Tony crossed his arms, glaring.

“Tony, you’re not hearing me. I didn’t say you had no other options, I said we were implementing our own strategy and you should’ve informed the team of your actions before going about with your own. We could’ve helped. All of us. And no one would’ve had to die,” Steve finished, soft.

 “You don’t know that,” Tony pointed out and Steve gritted his teeth. Tony waved his hand in front of his eyes. “No, don’t give me that look. I did the math, Cap. I did it  _three times_  before I threw myself in front of that missile. Possible casualties without my intervention: sixty two, including you and Natasha. Possible damage to the city square: nineteen blocks, increasing causalities to ninety seven. Amount of injuries, removing death: three hundred and seventeen. Reduction formula: using myself as the base, I was able to bring down the casualty list to  _six people_ , and the injury factor to three. And I originally found a possibility of nine and sixteen. I did the right thing, Cap. No matter how many times you tell me I should’ve listened, you would’ve  _died_. And that is unacceptable.”

Steve’s tongue refused to move as he took in all the information Tony just dropped on him. His mind sorted through it all fast and he quipped back, “That doesn’t mean you have to throw yourself into danger every time, Tony.”

Snorting, Tony turned back to his computers. “Goodbye, Cap. I’ll make sure to file the correct reports.”

Frowning, Steve moved forward and spun Tony around again. He pushed down, trapping Tony between his arms, until they were almost touching. Tony blinked up at him, eyes still heavily guarded and the pinched skin around his mouth telling Steve all he needed to know.

“I don’t care about the reports,” Steve said, soft. “I care that you don’t kill yourself. That you don’t do something stupid that will get  _you_  injured. Yes, I’m still annoyed that you did your own thing, that six people died, but you’re on the team, you’re my  _friend_ , and I don’t want to see you hurt.” Steve pressed their foreheads together. “Can you understand that?”

Tony froze against him, eyes wide and completely unsure. “Cap?”

Steve laughed, “Steve, Tony. My name is Steve.”

“I don’t – what are you doing?” Tony asked, voice small. Steve moved away, trying to ignore the obvious blush heating his ears.

“Making you  _understand_ ,” Steve said, before taking a full step back. “Just – inform us next time you try a suicide stunt, all right?”

“Okay?” Tony still had that struck look on his face, fingers tap-tap-tapping out a rhythm on the chair arm. Steve waved his hand in goodbye and turned on his heel, hiding his own shock and the still obvious red tint of his ears. He left the workshop, though kept the door slightly ajar.

“Jarvis, play file sixteen. Beginning,” Tony’s voice rang out. Jarvis whirred and Peggy came on again. Steve stopped just at the edge of the stairs, straining his ears. He smiled when she began to talk.

“Now, I’m going to tell you a bedtime story, ducky. It’s about a man. A man who became Captain America. But first, he was just a kid from Brooklyn…”


End file.
